


Of Wanting and Waiting

by 9_of_Clubs



Series: In the Years to Come [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, Kid Fic, Loneliness, M/M, Will's child has empathy, hopeful, nostalgic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1751327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9_of_Clubs/pseuds/9_of_Clubs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a twist of fate, Will’s son runs into Hannibal.</p><p>“You seem sad.” And suddenly he’s sad too, the emotions, which on Hannibal are only shades, mirror back at him now, undiluted through a child’s heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Wanting and Waiting

“Hello!”

Hannibal glances down at the curly haired child that comes bounding up to his bench, familiar blue eyes sparkling back up at him.

“Can I have my ball?”

There’s a red one, rubber, standard, and painfully normal, sitting to the side of his feet. He picks it up wordlessly and hands it the boy, watches as too chubby fingers grasp back for it eagerly. The other turns as if to go, but hesitates, turning back.

“You seem sad.” And suddenly he’s sad too, the emotions, which on Hannibal are only shades, mirror back at him now, undiluted through a child’s heart. The small lips quiver, eyes too big and shining, and Hannibal doesn’t answer, doesn’t move towards him, only watches the display, fascinated. His own pain, so exquisite, so much lovelier than it could ever be on his muted palette. For a moment, he wishes he could feel it fully, and then the voice sounds again. “Are you waiting for someone?”

He nods once and the sadness shifts to loneliness without warning, stark and deep. From that he looks away.

A hand curls around his wrist.

“It’s okay.” An endearing earnestness to the words that aches, he thinks he can hear the emotions fading away, a sunny smile returning. “Daddy’s lonely too, sometimes, but he has me. We play when he’s sad, do you want to come play? Margot brought me to the park today, because Daddy’s extra busy, but she doesn’t know how to throw.” He lowers his voice, tugging on Hannibal’s sleeve as he whispers. “And she always cheats, but I don’t think you’d cheat.”

“And didn’t…” Hannibal’s eyes turn back now, question unanswered, lips curving slightly. “Daddy ever tell you not to speak with strangers?”

The boy shrugs and hops away. “He did, but I know if they want to hurt me.” There’s a small puff of pride swelling his chest. “Like magic.” He laughs a tinkering laugh and adds. “I’m special.”

Hannibal bows his head in agreement, special indeed, and allows scenarios to flow through his mind. What might happen if he takes the boy’s hand and follows him down the path fate has suddenly unfurled. Two heartbeats and he suppresses the desire despite himself. 

“I think, for today, I will continue my waiting.”

There’s disappointment for a moment and then acceptance, but before the other can scamper off Hannibal stops him.

“What is your name?” 

He doesn’t know why he asks, he has had ample opportunity to find out, might have used a variety of sources to glean the title, but chose against the knowledge. But now, in front of him, he can’t seem to keep the curiosity from surging.

“I’m Michael.” He grins and then starts off, calling over his shoulder with a slightly impish twinkle. “But I like Misha best.” Then he’s gone, run down the hill, only the echoes of his laughter still in the air, Hannibal thinks he might have heard a faint, _We’ll play next time,_ but the wind blows through it and perhaps it’s only in his mind.

He sits, as he said, and waits. But perhaps, he allows the consideration for the first time, not for forever.


End file.
